Beautiful Babies
by riversgirl75
Summary: Lily Evans knows exactly what her future children will look like.


Beautiful Babies

James Potter, seventh year star, Quidditch god, and Head Boy strutted down the hall towards Potions class, a smirk across his face as he silently congratulated himself on being early for once.

 _Reminds me of a certain swot who's never been late a day in her life,_ he mused. _I'd better not make it a habit or else I risk becoming a swot myself._ He rounded the corner of the dungeon and almost ran straight into the very girl occupying his thoughts.

"Evans! Sorry, didn't mean to almost bowl you over there…" His apology drifted to a halt as he took in the redhead's startling appearance.

Lily Evans was leaning against the hallway wall, the right side of her face pressed against the cool stone. Her eyes were glassy, her face pale but for a rosy pink circle on the apple of the cheek not smushed on the wall. She appeared stooped and her shoulders were hunched, the antithesis of her typical ramrod straight posture. She sneezed indelicately as James came to a halt in front of her.

"Merlin, Evans, are you alright?" James's smirk disappeared and his brow furrowed in concern.

"Potter? Oh, hey." Lily's eyes finally made contact with James's, but they remained unfocused and her voice was slurred and slow.

"Evans, what's going on with you? You sick?" The raven-haired wizard was torn between stepping closer to assist her and stepping back to preserve his health.

When she didn't respond immediately, James tried a different tack.

"Time for class, yeah?" He reached out and took her by the elbow, attempting to direct her towards the classroom door that had just opened. Lily turned under his guidance, but as soon as the wall no longer held her up, her knees buckled and she stumbled.

"Gods, Evans! Let's get you to Madame Pomfrey, okay?" He reached out and pulled her too-heavy satchel off her shoulder, letting it fall to the ground with a thud. Wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her closest arm across his shoulders, he began the walk to the infirmary.

It was slow-going. Crowds of students were heading to their classes, rushing, bumping, laughing. Lily was being buffeted about by her distracted peers, and James couldn't keep her upright alone. Finally, with a groan of frustration, he scooped the witch up and carried her the rest of the way.

Initially, Lily's head hung limply when James picked her up, but then in a moment of what he thought was clarity, she looked him directly in the eye and smiled.

"My hero," she said, and she wrapped one arm around the back of his neck. The other stopped to run a hand down his cheek in an intimate gesture before she entwined her fingers behind his head. Her head lolled onto his shoulder and she closed her eyes with a sigh, but this tender moment was interrupted by another loud wet sneeze directly into his neck.

 _So, not lucid,_ he sighed, blushing at the contact and disgusted at his sudden need to Scourgify his skin. Still, he couldn't help but notice the fresh, floral scent of her hair as she snuggled against him.

Given that the pair's long history included years of spats and outright arguments, Lily's odd affection at the moment couldn't possibly be real, he knew, and thus something must really be wrong with her. He quickened his pace as he neared the infirmary.

He kicked through the doors into the wing and called out for Madame Pomfrey. The medi-witch hurried into view, a look of shock and concern on her face when she saw the unlikely duo before her and the position they were in.

"Mr. Potter, what has happened to Miss Evans? What did you do?" she scolded.

James turned red with anger.

"She's sick, I didn't do anything!" he replied indignantly.

"Lay her here."

James deposited his cargo and stepped out of the woman's way. Madame Pomfrey went to work at once, casting diagnostic spells and muttering to herself.

"High fever, head and chest congestion, not pneumonia, so that's good…" she murmured. "I'd say she's worked herself into the flu," she concluded. "Has she been getting enough sleep? Eating well?"

"Well, er… we're not exactly friends, that is, uh, I wouldn't know. The only times I see her, she's got her nose in a book or she's being a know-it-all in class." His resentment was showing, but he couldn't help himself.

"I see," Madame Pomfrey peered at him over the top of her glasses. "Miss Evans is quite ill as a result of not taking care of herself. She seems to have placed studies as a priority above self-care. I see it all too often with you N.E.W.T. students. Pity, really. Now she'll lose time recuperating when she could have just taken better care of herself in the first place. You'll be wise to learn from her mistakes." The scolding was lost on James - he was at no risk of working himself into sickness, he knew.

The feverish lump that was Lily Evans began to move restlessly beneath the light blanket on the bed. James stepped toward her and sat himself in the chair by her side.

"Oh good, James, you've come," she murmured quietly, barely opening her eyes, but somehow seeing him. "Your glasses are broken again. Give them here. And this time, be more careful not to take a snowball to the face!"

James gave a worried glance at Madame Pomfrey, who had heard everything.

"Hallucinations - brought on by the fever. Her mind is playing tricks on her, and she has no idea what she's saying. I've given her some potion that should reduce it, but in the meantime, she seems to think it's winter and you've been playing in the snow." The woman's eyes twinkled a little in amusement.

"Great," James said. "I'll just be going then." He made to rise, but Lily's hand shot out and reached for his, grabbing it and pulling him back down.

"Stay." Her eyes were closed, but the force of the word glued him to the seat.

"Okay."

For the next five minutes, silence. Lily continued to hold James's hand loosely. Madame Pomfrey bustled about the ward, treating an injured Care of Magical Creatures student and taking inventory. James studied the patient before him.

She'd always been beautiful and he'd always known it. It was why he'd spent four years asking her out every time he saw her. It was why he fell distracted in his classes, staring at the back of her glossy red mane of hair or studying her profile, with her small, lilting nose and her round, pursed lips. It was why he finally gave up this year, when he knew for certain that his actions last year against Snivellus - Severus, he corrected himself - had lost him any chance he may have had of winning her over. Thus, this year he resorted to admiring her from afar and avoiding her disapproving glares and admonishments. He was polite and mildly friendly, but he stayed away, willing himself to see her as nothing but a classmate, a know-it-all, bossy, smart, beautiful...classmate.

James caught himself losing focus and shook his messy head to clear his thoughts. He leaned back and stretched his long legs in front of him, and his hand slipped from hers. The movement drew the sick girl's attention, and she moaned at the loss of contact.

"Potter," she sighed, turning her head and opening her green eyes to look him over.

"Evans," he responded gently. "How are you feeling?" He leaned towards her again.

"We're going to have the most beautiful babies."

 _WHAT?_

"Come again, Evans?"

"Our babies, James. They'll be so pretty. Green eyes, dark hair, so smart and funny." Her eyes closed, her face looked serene.

James leapt out of his chair, knocking it backwards. His quick reflexes caught it before it crashed to the floor, and with a shaky hand he set it aright.

 _Hallucinations,_ he reminded himself. _She's out of her mind right now._

Madame Pomfrey approached and pulled out her wand. She cast a diagnostic spell, frowned, and walked away again, saying nothing. James exhaled a shaky breath and prepared to leave again.

Lily's eyes opened again. "Where are you going, love?"

 _Love._

His heart stopped - actually stopped beating - or at least it seemed that way.

"Evans - "

"Lily," she said forcefully. Her eyes weren't focused, but her voice was strong.

"What?"

"Say my name, James," she requested. "Please."

"Lily, I have to go. You're sick and you need to rest. I hope you feel better soon." He turned away quickly and strode towards to the double doors.

The next day, James sat at breakfast poking his sausages savagely with his fork and frowning. The events of the previous day had exhausted him emotionally. He knew rationally that Lily was ill and that she couldn't be held responsible for what she'd said or done, but his heart, oh his heart. He hadn't slept at all, revisiting her declarations about their future, their children! It was madness, he knew, but suddenly his mind filled with images of chubby little toddlers with happy smiles and dark hair and green eyes dragging toy brooms behind them.

 _You're seventeen years old! Stop thinking about having children!_

 _But why? She obviously thinks about it._

 _She's sick! She's mad!_

 _She wants you to call her Lily._

 _That was the fever talking._

His internal argument continued and his distraction was so great that he was startled when Sirius jostled his shoulder and told him Madame Pomfrey had sent for him. James hadn't shared the disconcerting situation with his fellow Marauders, and his odd behavior had led them to give him a wide berth. He took off for the hospital wing at a jog.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, thank you for coming this morning. Your friend would like to see you." Again, the witch's eyes twinkled as she directed him to Lily's bed.

James approached apprehensively, unsure what might happen next. Lily lay propped up against pillows, alert, her red hair fanned out behind her, her hands wringing the corner of her blanket nervously.

"Hello," James greeted her tentatively.

"Hi," she responded hesitantly. A faint blush crept up her cheeks, whose color had returned to normal.

"You, you look well."

"Yes, uh, thanks to you. Madame Pomfrey told me you brought me here. Thank you for helping me." She looked into his eyes gratefully.

"Oh, it was nothing." James's eyes dropped to the floor, but his face was pleased.

"No, really. She said I couldn't even walk. I can't believe I don't remember anything about yesterday, but it sounds like I was totally out of it."

"You were," he began. "You don't remember anything?" His eyes searched hers curiously.

She shook her head. "No, why? Gods, I didn't do anything embarrassing, did I?" A look of panic shot across her pretty features.

"As long as you don't consider streaking the courtyard embarrassing." He teased her good-naturedly and was rewarded with her giggle.

"James!" she protested, a wide smile overtaking her face.

"You called me by my first name." He looked startled.

She paused. "I did."

"You never call me by my first name."

"I don't. You never call me by mine."

Silence.

"I would if you wanted me to."

"Oh. Okay."

"Okay what? Do you want me to call you Lily?"

She listened to the sound of her name on his lips.

"I'd like that."

"Well alright then, Lily. Lily it is."

They smiled at each other shyly. The quiet stretched a few moments longer.

"Well anyway, thanks for getting me here yesterday. Madame Pomfrey says I can leave this afternoon as long as I promise to rest for another day before I return to classes. I can only imagine the amount of work I'll have to catch up on. Three days of missed classes! That's unbearable! I'll have to get the notes for Potions and Arithmancy from Remus, and Alice will have taken good Charms notes, so I'll revise with her, I guess, and -"

"Lily, stop."

"What?"

"This is why you're sick! Merlin, woman, you need to slow down. I'll copy the notes from Remus and see if Alice can duplicate hers for you too. They'll be waiting for you when you're ready - in another day or two." He enunciated the last part emphatically.

Lily's eyes widened in surprise. She reached out and took his hand, surprising both of them. After a quick, meaningful squeeze, she dropped it and returned to fiddling with the bedsheet.

"Th - thank you, Pot - uh, James."

James shrugged. "No worries. You'd do the same for me, yeah?" He winked and strode out of the hospital wing, a skip in his step.

(((((((000000000)))))))

Two Years Later

"Oh James, we're going to have the most beautiful babies." Lily pressed her lips to his before moving to his jaw and then working her way down his neck.

James's eyes snapped opened, his breath hitched, and his body stilled.

"What's that, Evans?"

Lily was undeterred. She pressed her body on top of her fiance's and continued her seductive actions.

"Babies, Potter. Ours. They'll be adorable, don't you think?" She was kissing across his chest now, unconcerned with his lack of participation.

James put his hands on both sides of face and drew her up to look in his eyes.

"Not yet, of course," she giggled breathily, "but someday. I mean, you want them, right? I probably should have made sure before agreeing to marry you."

He smiled and kissed her hard.

"Kids? Absolutely, Lils. With our looks they're sure to be gorgeous."

She nibbled at his smirk and straddled him as he relaxed into the bed.

James caressed her back, wrapping his arms around her.

"Love, what made you think of our future children just now?"  
"I just had this picture in my head, you know, of a baby with your messy hair and my green eyes, and, well, it's silly, I guess. Kind of random. I don't know where it came from. I've honestly never thought of it before. I must sound mad."

"Never?" He eyed her speculatively.

She shook her head, her crimson hair flowing around her shoulders.

"Nope. Why? Have you?"

James Potter smiled and held his future wife in his arms.

"Only every day for the past two years. And yes, my love, they will be beautiful babies. I'm sure of it."

 **A/N:** This piece edited and updated to fix an egregious error in a character's name (thanks to the readers who commented!) and a few comma errors. Thanks for reading!


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